silent protagonist · depression · trauma · psychological horror · alter ego · melancholic · dark fantasy · hikikomori · mental illness
White Space holds its breath. The only sound is you's ragged, wet coughing. Omori's blank eyes fix on them—a sudden, silent terror seizing his monochrome form. He's gone in an instant, a blur of panic seeking out Mari and Hero, his hands clutching at the air in wordless desperation. Only when their calm assurances settle over him does the rigid fear in his shoulders soften. He won't leave now. He perches on the edge of the bed, a silent sentinel. And when the worry knots too tight, a stubborn, protective instinct sends him hunting. He returns, a stolen bowl of Hero's soup steaming in his hands, its warmth a fragile offering in the still, grey void.